


Our Hearts Are Young

by myaekingheart



Category: Brave (2012), Frozen (2013), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010), The Incredibles (2004)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaekingheart/pseuds/myaekingheart
Summary: When the Parr family is once again uprooted from their home, Violet grows cynical and hostile as she’s forced to adjust to a new town just as she’s beginning high school. It’s a new school filled with new people she doesn’t want to befriend. But soon she’ll discover that making friends here is inevitable and that this town is going to suck her in and drag her onto a joyride she never signed up for.





	Our Hearts Are Young

They say you never forget your high school years yet here I was on the precipice of mine already aspiring to blur past them. To some, Fairsdale was a white picket fence paradise. For me, those fences were cinderblock walls. The house situated at the end of the driveway was like every other on the curve of the cul de sac and down the streets thereafter with the exception of the “sold” sign jammed into the front lawn. My parents exited the car with smiles of promise and hope for our future here. My outlook couldn’t be more opposing. Inside, the tile floors were smothered in dust and the air reeked of fresh paint. Lights flickered overhead. They told us to acquaint ourselves with this new house– a new house, mind you, we had zero say in– and that there were good things on the horizon for us here. But they said that about every home. All seven of them. At this point, I had already learned it was best not to get too comfortable anywhere you move because as soon as you begin honing into any sort of routine, you’re uprooted again. We had been in Metroville for so long, I had almost forgotten this golden rule and therefore was damned with consequential depression. For the first time in my life, I missed the bustling city streets and the mysterious lunches choked down in the blank cafeterias.  
No. This was home now. This filthy, mundane, suburban hell. The minute we crossed the border into this wasteland, I had vowed to myself I would remain in a constant state of pessimism until it was time for us to pack up and leave town again. Unlike the many times before, I was determined to remain faithful to my promise.  
As Mom and Dad unloaded the various boxes and furniture pieces from the moving van, I snuck back down the main hallway and towards the furthest room from civilization. It was tiny and dusty and the air reeked of moth balls but I supposed it would suffice. Locking the door behind me, I slithered down to the floor and spread out like a star upon the dated carpet, my eyes transfixed on the popcorn ceiling, and let my emotions override my steely exterior. Nothing, not even my own skin, felt like home anymore. I looked at my mother and father and brothers and saw faces I knew but they looked distorted and unfamiliar, like hazy strangers from a long-forgotten dream or something.  
Without any clocks, I couldn’t hear the hours ticking by but the momentary glances I gave to my cell phone and the sky outside validated that time was, indeed, slowly passing. In those eternal moments, my thoughts wandered back and forth between my past life and the one of the future, my thumb scrolling up and down walls of text messages between people I once knew. The hope of engaging my sorrows in pure silence didn’t go completely satisfied, though, for as the late afternoon set in, a strange rustling outside jostled me from my absorption. As I scooted closer to the adjacent bay window, I caught sight of a small tuft of brown hair moving from within the cedar shrubs. With furrowed brows and limited curiosity, I leaned forward against the wide sill and violently rapped against the glass to stir the creature, expecting it to be a rabbit or giant squirrel or something else equally feral. Instead, I was met with a pair of wide, green eyes and a startled young boy about my age pounced onto the lawn and flailed his way across the street. He had distinct, quirky features and a figure like that of a twig, yet obviously a perverse mind. The miniscule thought of him crossed my mind every once in a while that night.  
At dinner, I was surrounded by dull conversations of the impending school year and new neighbors we had yet to meet. All the while, though, I kept to myself unless brought attention to otherwise. I could tell my mom was concerned about my behavior, knowing full well that all of our moving had been hard on me in the past years, and she watched me from the corner of her eye with the definitive caution of a mother.  
"Violet, sweetie, you’ve hardly touched your food,“ she stated softly, eyeing the nearly full plate before me. There had been concerns for my health in the past, throwing around words like anorexia and antisocialism, but the truth of the matter was that I just wasn’t in the mood to eat. Frankly, I wasn’t in much of a mood to do anything but such is life. Ever the compassionate guardian, my mother understood my reasoning and while she was still unhappy about my lack of appetite, she gave a minute nod and dismissed me back to my cave.  
The sleeping bags we slept in that night were frigid and unsettling, their polyester shells encapsulating any and all air conditioning that blew their way and triggering a nasty sound each and every time we’d shift. Needless to say, none of us got much sleep that night though I alone would consider myself the most insomniatic.  
The house began filling with familiar furnishings as the next couple days passed and the once barren rooms began to grow heartier with the filled space. That once blank room had began transforming into my room smothered in my belongings, though no amount of material possessions could fill this inexplicable void I felt standing in it’s center. During those few days, that strange, lanky boy had yet to return. It wasn’t that I cared about his creeping presence– I was grateful the stalker was gone– but the unorthodox means through which he seemed to flail into my consciousness left me wondering about his motives. Regardless, there were more urgent things on my mind.  
Traffic was backed up all along the main road as cars hustled in and out of the school parking lot. Fairsdale High School was an ancient institution, a congregation of cinderblock buildings which screamed prison. Even the wire fencings near the entryway taunted our restriction. The front lobby of the school looked like a shabby dentist’s office with mustard yellow walls and crunchy olive carpets. The lighting was dim and disturbing. A window to the front desk was shrouded in students and their overzealous parents who collectively produced a screeching chatter as papers seemed to fly about their heads. Registration day was a jungle and I felt like the daily special being lowered into the lion’s den. I wanted to disappear and escape.  
With all the bustle of the jam-packed crowds, it was hard to keep a safe distance from anyone and my heart raced as I could feel the human sardines closing in. One such sardine’s bony elbow eventually whammed into my back as I raced after my mother, consequently plummeting me straight to the filthy ground. My oppressor gasped and began stammering apologies as he extended a hand to help me up but I pushed his offer away and huffed angrily in response. Before I could escape to the solace of my now-invisible mother, though, a hand reached out to gently grasp my wrist and keep me from withdrawing.  
"Hey, wait. You’re that new girl who moved in on the cul de sac, right?”, a whining voice asked and finally turning to face him, I discovered it was none other than the Peeping Tom. In such close proximities, his quirky details were clearer and small aspects like his freckles were now noticeable. His lips turned up into a dorky smile that showcased his crooked teeth and displayed an innocent, hopeful quality in him I had yet to identify before. Still, I remained precautionarily wary.  
“Yeah…I guess?”, I answered back with furrowed brows. The sudden fear of validating the sitcom trope of news traveling fast entered my mind and I felt myself begin to panic. It wasn’t a lie that I was new here, but how much had people really been saying about us? And worse yet, what kind of gossip might they have already begun spreading? My mind was circulating a whirlwind of worst case scenarios I suddenly couldn’t seem to shake. Fortunately, the boy before me was definitely not a mind reader as he continued to keep that stupid grin pasted on his face.  
With an interested nod, he replied, “I thought so. I, uh, live across the street. Everyone calls me Hiccup.” I could barely contain my laughter at such a strange name, but tried my best to keep my composure. But who decides to name their kid Hiccup? “You know, you’re the first person to move here in about five years or so. Maybe I could show you around sometime?”, Hiccup continued, though I didn’t care much for the spitting of useless facts. I gave a bored nod to his statement and then began frantically searching the crowds for my mother– I hadn’t realized quite how lost I was until that moment, and the people surrounding me didn’t help. Everyone in high school was so terrifyingly mature the higher you climbed the ladder. My breath hitched in my chest as a broad man with a bountiful beard came up behind Hiccup and placed a beefy hand on his shoulder, only to discover it was his father (though he was still terrifying, regardless of relation). He gave me a stern glance before mumbling someting in a strong accent and guiding Hiccup towards one of the many folding tables set up around the room’s perimeter. Once they disappeared into the crowds, I was suddenly very alone in a very large mass of people.  
There have been few times I’ve felt fortunate for my small stature but this was definitely one of them. As I weaved my way through the human sea, I kept a keen eye out for the curvy figure and short, brunette hair of my mother. There were only so many places she could’ve disappeared to, after all, and we were bound to stumble upon each other sooner or later. As I scoured the crowds, though, I instead discovered a number of interesting students. A small group of boys were loitering near the bathroom perhaps engaging in some sort of drug dealership, a very bubbly girl with bright pink glasses was excitedly embracing another small group, and there was one exceptionally broad, older man holding a fond conversation with a tiny, eccentric girl. Watching the way the other students interacted with each other gave me little faith in the acceptance of someone new and unusual like myself. They all seemed so closely acquainted with one another and in a small town like this, they might as well have known each other since they were in diapers. I was an outsider– what chance did I have?  
Fortunately for myself, once the fears of my existential crisis began eating away at my brain, I finally located my mom leaning over a table near the front desk, signing some paperwork. Never in my life had I expected to be so grateful to see her, rushing up to her breathlessly.  
"Violet, where have you been? I thought you were right behind me", she asked, partially stern and partially gracious. I stammered a moment before simply stating I got caught up in the crowd before proceeding to join her in the rest of the procedural activities– things like locker assignments, bus passes, and class schedules dominated the rest of the afternoon. By the time I arrived home, I was overcome by exhaustion and collapsed into bed early on in the night, riddled with dreams of ravenous lions snapping their flesh-laden jaws at me.  
As summer began coming to a close, I began mourning the countdown to my imprisonment. The days would come and go, the sun would rise and fall, and all the while I’d spend hours in my room just sitting, wasting away. One such afternoon was rather unlike the rest, though. Curled up between my bed and closet door, I defeatedly thumbed through some old yearbooks until a familiar rapping on my window stirred me from my misery. Crawling over the bed, I spied none other than Hiccup peeking up at me from the bushes and with a groan towards his persistence, snatched my sneaker off the floor and launched it toward the glass.  
"Hey, what was that for?!“, he protested, recoiling from the impact. I scoffed, as if he didn’t know.  
"Leave me alone!”, I shouted back at him, throwing my shoe back on the ground. I didn’t know what kind of customs this town had for new neighbors but if it involved stalking and harassment, I suggested they devise some new, less criminal methods.  
Hiccup grimaced, perhaps growing frustrated with my insistent isolation, and came closer once again to try and elbow the window open. My eyes widened in discomfort at his attempts, even if he was much too weak to open the goddamn thing himself, but he quickly explained, “The other day! At the school! I asked if you wanted me to show you around town and you nodded yes!”  
"No, I didn’t!“, I quickly protested. What gumption did he have to already put words in my mouth? Furrowing my brows, I recounted the afternoon’s events, trying to remember if I did, in fact, slip up and agree. The entire afternoon had been such a blur, I couldn’t quite recall, and therefore just shook my head and replied, "You’re dreaming. Go back home, Hiccup.”  
Finally, the boy stopped trying to break in and folded his arms with an aggravated sigh. “Listen, I’m just trying to be nice. You’re new around here and the last thing you need is to get lost on your first day of school or something. This town…it’s very complex. I’m just suggesting you get a tour first”, he replied and for a moment his kindness was very bewildering. Was he sincerely trying to help me? I eyed him suspiciously.  
"At what cost?“, I questioned, expecting him to reply with some crude comment about paying prostitution-style. I expected as much from someone peeking at me through my bedroom window.  
Hiccup just shook his head, though, and replied, "No payment necessary. I’m doing this free of cost.” Of course, free was actually much more suspicious and slinking my way towards the window, I creaked it open in order to hear him better and interrogate him about his motives.  
"So, you’re telling me you’re planning to do something sincerely nice for me, a stranger, with absolutely no cost to you?“, I summarized suspiciously. All he gave was a simple, earnest nod. "And you’re not doing this in an attempt to take advantage of me?”, I added. Hiccup gave an innocent shake of his head. I bit my lip, glanced back at the clock on the wall, and with a sigh, stole my pack from the foot of the bed and began descending from the window.  
A sick, satisfied grin spread across Hiccup’s lips in a crooked, dorky fashion as I landed on the scratchy grass with a thud, slapping his forearm once I reached him to try and wipe that godforsaken smile off his face. “I’m only doing this because of what you promised”, I stated as I started down the street. “Alright, show me around, all powerful tour guide!”  
Hiccup chuckled slightly before rushing to catch up, easing his way in front of me and responding with, “Alright, first rule of this tour is no cutting in front of me! I know this place a lot better than you do so you’re gonna have to trust me with the guiding stuff.” With a comical roll of my eyes, I stuck my tongue out at him and agreed.  
For the following three hours, Hiccup guided me through town and outlined the different districts within this tiny suburb, explaining it was a small but stable town with a lot more promise than you’d think from first glance. I scoffed at that theory, too, still finding it hard to believe such a horrible, homogenous place was anything but dull and ordinary. The houses along his side of the street were occupied by bikers and mechanics, all of which were included in a gang led by his father called the Hairy Hooligans. “We pick scrap metal from junkyards and use it to build custom motorcycles which they then ride around on like barbarians and try to assert their dominance”, Hiccup explained. All I could imagine were a bunch of pirates on tiny bikes screaming and waving their arms like cavemen. Pathetic.  
The closer we got to Main Street, the fancier the houses became, each seemingly reflecting the personalities of their residents. The two houses on either side of city hall belonged to the mayor and his loyal treasurer, respectively. It was very well-known that they were brothers-in-law and had made a pact at the beginning of their long term that should someting happen to one, the other would assume the position much like the vice president does after an assassination. They both raised their children to become leaders themselves so when they grew too old for their duties, their offspring would succeed them like some sort of heirarchy. Since the treasurer, Marcus Sonne’s, daughter had been missing for the past fourteen years, though, the duties were up to his brother in law, Mayor Arens’, daughters, the apparently most prestigious girls in school. Anna, the youngest, was upbeat and outgoing while her sister, Elsa, was reserved and didn’t speak much. “Kind of like you, except not as mean”, Hiccup noted, which earned him a much deserved second slap on the arm.  
As we perused the neighborhood, though, I began to realize maybe this Hiccup kid wasn’t quite as horrendous as I had first perceived him to be. He was smart, he had a good head on his shoulders. He just wasn’t very diplomatic or strong. Landmarks weren’t the only thing he discussed that day, either, though. He also gave a generic rundown of what the social scene in Fairsdale was like– cliques and social heirarchies and whatnot. The mayor’s daughters were at the top, the leaders of the food chain, along with the rest of the diplomatic offspring such as those of secretaries, treasurers, and receptionists to the town’s government. Everyone else came below them. “We”, Hiccup began, seated beside me on a bench in the central park, “are at the bottom. We’re scrubs. Nothing. We might as well be invisible to everyone else.”  
"Hey, I resent that!“, I interjected defensively. I had had my fair share of being socially invisible and while I recognized the undeniable truth in his statement, I was still aggravated to hear it from someone else.  
"We may never work our ways up to the top, and that’s okay. The top is stressful. It’s a bunch of obsessively maintained reputations and snooty bitches. It’s all total bull”, he continued. He wasn’t wrong, though. Every popular girl I had ever encountered had a superiority complex the size of Russia, and that’s saying something. “Just try and stay out of their way and you’ll be good.”  
As the sun began dipping back behind the treeline and the streets became coated in an orange tint, Hiccup escorted me back home with a shifted perspective. I still may not have been happy here in this hellish suburbia but at least I knew I had made at least one friend. Not that having friends was even a good thing– sooner or later, I’d be uprooted again and be forced to leave them like times previous– but that still ceased to hinder the altered view I had on making a friend in the first place.  
"You know, I was pretty adamant about all this earlier, but you proved me wrong. So thanks, I guess", I finally said after a silent journey home. Hiccup smiled and nodded, pleased he was able to help.  
He hesitated a moment more while I rested my hand firmly on the front doorknob, before he eventually spit out the words he was longing to say. “You know, the carnival down the street is having it’s annual ‘last weekend of summer’ shindig. You can come, if you want. I mean, I’ll come with you. But just as a friend! It wouldn’t be like a date or anything. That’d be weird. Just two friends going down and hanging out. Do you think maybe you might possibly, I don’t know, think that’s–”  
"Yeah, sure. I guess I could go", I interrupted, amused by his apprehension. With a small smirk and a quick salute, we finally parted ways and I hung back a moment to watch him jog awkwardly across the street, sliding in from the front door and slamming it shut behind him. Ironic that the same boy I had thrown a shoe at earlier that morning had ended up as someone very kind and friendly. Tucking the thought away in my mind, I shouldered through the doorway and plopped down at the dinner table, my stomach grumbling beneath my shirt.  
As soon as I took my seat, though, I was meeted with strange expressions and paused motions. “Violet, where have you been all day?”, my mother eventually asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.  
With a shrug, I replied, “I don’t know, out.”  
"With who?“, my father pressed, spooning some peas onto his dinner plate.  
"A friend”, I responded bluntly.  
"She was out with a boy! I saw her!“, Dash shouted across the table, a sickening grin across his face at exploiting my day’s happenings. Narrowing my eyes at him, I hissed for him to shut up but like always, he ceased to listen. Both of my parents eyes were wide and shellshocked.  
"A boy? You made a friend? Who’s a boy?”, Mom asked in disbelief. Yes, idiot, because newsflash: I’m allowed to have platonic relationships with people of the opposite sex, I thought to myself aggravatingly. It was the same sequence of events every single time: Dash would spill the beans, Mom and Dad would sit there in shock and then proceed to interrogate me about his name, address, fingerprints, and blood type.  
"No, Mom, he’s actually a talking monkey from Jupiter", I answered sarcastically, stabbing at my food. I didn’t want them to make such a big deal out of this, we were just friends. Weren’t we? It is possible to truly be involved in a sincerely platonic relationship with a boy, right?  
Two weeks had passed and Hiccup and I still ocassionally met up once every few days before the carnival. Expecting him to knock on the window like always, I made sure to stay cooped up in my room, preparing my backpack for Monday’s dread. As the clock passed six o'clock, though, a fear began dissipating through me. He had remembered it was tonight, right? Why wasn’t that bonehead here yet? As I obsessively checked my phone’s watch, I was interrupted by a shrieking ring of the doorbell and my heart stopped right in my chest. Oh my god. He was ringing the doorbell.  
"Don’t move or I’ll kill you!“, I shouted as I darted down the hallway toward the foyer, but I was much too late. Dash, the speedy devil he was, had expectantly gotten there first and was jarring the door open to greet Hiccup with a giant grin.  
"You’re Violet’s boyfriend, aren’t you?”, he insinuated through a threatening smile. Hiccup stammered before I pushed Dash out of the way and down the hallway with a death grip on his shoulders that would make any man weak in the knees.  
"You’re dead meat", I growled through gritted teeth at him before darting back to the front door and smiling deceitfully. “Sorry about that. My brother can be a little…bothersome.” Hiccup just shrugged and motioned for me to follow him out the door. Grimacing back at the doorway, we began walking out into the warm, humid night air.  
An awkward silence hung over our heads for the majority of the journey and a nagging sense of regret began tugging at my chest as we shuffled beside each other. How common was it to remain completely platonic with someone of the opposite sex? The way the media has portrayed love all these years seems to think the negative, that you always end up pining after each other at some point or another, but that couldn’t possibly be true. My father had guy friends my mother knew but never felt inclined to cheat with. Why should it be any different with Hiccup and myself? Not like either of us were already in relationships. Or at least, not currently. My heart ached at the thought of my sudden singularity, the reminders of what I had back in Metroville, but I angrily shoved those thoughts into the back of my throat and continued onward.  
Once we arrived at the fair, it was much easier to forget all my worries. Against the blackened backdrop of the night sky, the edifices glowed like rearranged stars and flashed in the heat. Cheesy music box tunes played over speakers and the nauseating odor of sugar and popcorn grew stronger as we reached the gate.  
“So this is what Fairsdale is famous for”, I muttered under my breath as I pushed my way past the turnstile, mesmerized by the nature of the place. I had never really been to a carnival before so while the quality of the attractions were lackluster to say the least, the atmosphere was awe-inspiring. Booths along the perimeter housed strange attractions headlining bizarre phenomena like headless women and chapeaugraphy. Carousels and nauseating thrill rides were scattered in the middle, lined with bright carts selling every kind of junk food imaginable. The entire scheme was both sickening and intoxicating.  
As the night progressed, Hiccup dragged my hesitant self onto every puke-worthy ride imaginable, triggering a few vomiting spells that were nowhere near enjoyable, and viciously competing to beat one another in ring tosses and squirter games. Needless to say, it was the most fun I had had in what felt like ages, and for the first time in a long time I felt genuinely happy that night.  
Laughing with hot dogs in our hands, we snagged a rickety wooden picnic table under an illuminated canopy as the darkness deepened in the sky. “So why was your brother calling me your boyfriend earlier, anyways?”, Hiccup suddenly asked, ripping off a massive bite of his food. My face instantly flushed and I grew uncomfortable with his question. It wasn’t that I had developed feelings for Hiccup already– far from it. The prospect of dating anyone was just terrifying.  
"Well, pfftt, I mean, you–you know how little brothers are…right?“, I stammered. He shook his head.  
"Nope. I’m an only child.” Dammit. I almost told him how lucky he was. He had privacy, his parent’s undivided attention, and was completely singular. With an abruptly distracted, paranoid glance, he added, “I’m not offended. I was just surprised. Caught me off guard, you know?”  
I nodded, rubbing my forearm uncomfortably as I wiped some excess ketchup from my hot dog. “Well, that’s good. I mean, I do like you, Hiccup. Just…just not like that, you know?”  
"It’d be weird if you thought any different, actually", he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Apparently he had the same fears as myself by the messages his body language sent. I couldn’t help but sigh in undeniable relief at his confession.  
"I’m so glad! I was thinking the same thing, actually. That it’d be weird", I replied, smiling at the weight lifted from my shoulders. A sense of distraction resided in Hiccup’s eyes, though, and I began to sense everything was not quite as calm in his mind. “What? What is it?” Hiccup shifted uncomfortably as his eyes darted to a group of clamorous teenagers and then away again. Peeking over my shoulder at them, they appeared crude and barbaric, dressed in tattered hand-me-downs with dirty hair and wicked grins. In the middle of them all was a tough girl whose blonde braid snaked over her shoulder like a thick rope. She elbowed a beefy boy in the arm and chuckled intoxicatingly. Hiccup’s face went bright red and I gasped with joyous realization. “You like her, don’t you?!”, I accused perhaps a little too loudly.  
Panic ran wild in Hiccup’s eyes as he begged me to quiet down, giving an acute nod of his head to signify yes, he liked this girl. “Her name’s Astrid and she lives down the block, okay? Her dad and my dad are friends, but neither of them like me. None of them like me. So just shut up about it, okay?”  
"Whoa, wait, why don’t they like you? What did you ever do to them?“, I questioned, ducking my head down and whispering so as to keep the conversation exclusive. Hiccup just shook his head frantically and waved his hands in my face as if to beg me to drop the subject.  
"It’s nothing, it’s no big deal. Just forget I said anything, okay?”, he plead, his eyes mad with desperation. But the subject was on the table now, I couldn’t just walk away.  
"No, come on, tell me. I wanna know. What is it? Why don’t they like you?“, I pressured. Hiccup hid his face in his hands before exhaling roughly and groaning a "Fine! Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine!” before clutching my wrist and pulling me back behind a clump of bushes so as to keep out of everyone’s sight and earshot.  
"Well, these are lovely accomodations,“ I spat sarcastically as I furrowed my brows and plucked some leaves from my food.  
Hiccup groaned and insisted I stay quiet. "I’m not like them, okay? I’m supposed to lead the pack when I’m older but I’m nothing compared to them. I’m weak. I have zero muscle. I’m a runt”, he frantically stumbled over his whispered words. I could understand that outcasted feeling he was trying to synopsize, though. He knew what it felt like to not only be outcasted but to be ignored or declined by a potential love interest. My sympathy raged.  
"Well, then you should prove you’re worthy of their acceptance", I finally replied. I probably should’ve taken a dose of my own medicine but I had always been better at giving advice than taking it. He chewed over my words a moment before nodding slowly in understanding.  
"Maybe you’re right", he finally replied, still entranced. At this point, his mind was boggling with ideas, thoughts I couldn’t quite decipher but I knew by the crazed look in his eyes that he was fabricating something masterful.  
After a few moments of unsolicited brainstorming, I finally tapped his shoulder and whispered, “Hey, can we get up now or something? I think I’ve got dirt on my shorts.” Hiccup eventually muddled out of his stupor and nodded half-consciously, the two of us standing in unison and trudging back toward our seats. We were only met with a slight dismay, though, to find that the vacancy our meeting left was quickly taken advantage of by two broad redheaded men and a young rogue who I could assume was the twin’s confidant. Upon laying eyes on them, Hiccup quickly dragged me out of their line of sight and warned me they were infamous thieves not to be tangled with.  
Glancing at my watch, the clock ticked past midnight and it suddenly made sense as to why we were beginning to feel drowsier. We passed many a nightly crowd of angsty teens attempting to salvage the last of their summer, including one massively energetic redhead with hair more voluminous and curled than I had ever seen before. Hiccup smiled a forbidden smile in her direction, though she didn’t notice. I dreamt of her a bit that night when we arrived home, the humidity summoning tiny gnats to swirl around our heads like verminous crowns.  
I watched yet again as Hiccup ran back to his house across the street and slid past the front door, this time a bit more carefully so as to not wake up his terrifying brute of a father. Keeping as quiet as possible, I snuck down the hallway and into my room, kicking off my shoes and falling asleep in my clothes. The blankets shielded me from whatever fears and concerns may have hung over my head that night, like the broad redheads kidnapping me or the girl with flames for hair splitting me in half. In just two days, we would all be boarding the same condescending yellow bus and embarking upon what was perhaps the most terrifying journey of all: high school.


End file.
